Dear Emily

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Dear Emily Page 11

by Fern Michaels


  “I’m not sure I know why. Now, I think I understand my actions a little better. Back then I didn’t. I think I was trying to make some kind of statement. To myself. I wanted to think Ian would take care of me forever, that all I had done was a kind of hold over him. If I signed, that meant…it was business. I don’t know. I do know now that it was stupid of me and I regret it. However, I can live with it because I have to live with it. The house and shore house are in both our names. I am currently making the mortgage payments. Does Ian…is he entitled to half if I’m forced to sell?”

  “Of course. It’s called equitable distribution. If you file for divorce, you can sue for alimony. Is that what you want to do?”

  “No. Ian will have to file. I just wanted to be sure I understood things. The clinics…that’s a closed issue.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been of more help to you. This isn’t going to make you feel any better but the sale of those clinics came up at one of the Chamber of Commerce meetings. The sale figures they were bandying about took my breath away. I’m sorry you lost out. You would have been quite comfortable for the rest of your days. Do you know where your husband is living now?”

  “No. All I have to do is call the AMA and they’ll tell me, providing I want to know, which I don’t. At this point in time it doesn’t matter where he is. Actually, Mr. Ostermeyer, I’m quite comfortable now. Thank you for your time. I really like that shirt; I couldn’t have done it better.”

  “I see,” the attorney said.

  Emily laughed. “No you don’t. My husband used to say that all the time and he was clueless. Shall I pay the receptionist or do you send bills?”

  He looks at a loss, Emily thought as the attorney rose to see her to the door. “Good luck, Mrs. Thorn.”

  “That’s about what it comes down to, Mr. Ostermeyer,” Emily said, her mind on the donuts and coffee that were moments away.

  In the parking lot of the donut shop Emily made up her mind that she would go inside and smell the baked goods. She wouldn’t buy anything. Or maybe if she absolutely couldn’t resist the temptation, she would buy some of the holes that were sprinkled with powdered sugar. Munchkins, that’s what the holes were called.

  Inside she was a kid in a candy shop. She wanted one of everything. “I’ll take a dozen. Four jelly, four Bavarian cream, three Boston cream, and one glazed. A dozen Munchkins. One large coffee, heavy on the cream with three sugars.” Emily wondered if her eyes were as glazed as the donuts in the case. As soon as she got into the car, she was going to rip into the donuts and slurp at the coffee. She slapped the exact amount of money onto the counter, grabbed her bags, and with her rear end backed out through the plate glass door.

  Emily was almost into the car, one foot was straddling the seat when she turned around and dumped her purchases into the trash container to the left of her car. “Oh, well,” she sighed. The anticipation of buying the donuts and coffee, and paying for them, was almost as good as tasting them. “So there, Ian, so there.”

  It was a milestone. A kind of insurmountable hurdle. She’d come through, her willpower intact. It wasn’t even a setback because she hadn’t weakened. “Atta girl, Emily,” she chortled to herself on the way home.

  “Paulena, you’re home. Is everything all right?” Emily asked her new tenant, a widow whose husband hadn’t provided for her.

  “Fine. Today is my early day. Tomorrow is my late day.”

  “What’s all this?” Emily asked, pointing to an array of bottles.

  “When I got off work at the Acme, I went to my part-time job at the health food store and my boss loaded me up with all these vitamins and herbs. He’s good to me that way. I’ll share some with you. There’s a vitamin and herb for everything. If you like, I’ll bring you some books tomorrow. Good nutrition is the key to weight loss. You can make teas from the herbs for sleeping, all kinds of good stuff. I was working at the health food store before my husband died and I learned about all this.”

  There was an easy, comfortable familiarity between the two women. Lena, as she preferred to be called, usually arrived home just as Emily was finishing her afternoon stint on her exercise equipment. While she had coffee, Lena had herbal tea and they talked. Emily hoped a friendship would blossom and they would become confidants, best friends.

  “I’d like that. I read while I exercise. I suppose I should pay attention to what I’m doing, but it’s easy to walk and read. I’m not losing as much weight as I’d like to lose. I’m sticking to my diet. God, today I bought donuts and then threw them away. Do you believe that?”

  Lena hooted. “Sure. We all do dumb things from time to time. Like me trying to bleach my liver spots with Clorox. Now that’s dumb, but I do it anyway.”

  “Call them freckles and you’ll feel better about them. They go with your red hair and hazel eyes. Listen, Lena, if you want, you can use my exercise equipment. I ordered a NordicTrack. It should be here this week sometime.”

  “That’s kind of you, Emily, thank you. It’s all working out for you, isn’t it? I mean with all the tenants and all. I know it’s a zoo around here at dinnertime, but this past week I saw that most of the kinks are being worked out. I find something very comforting about all of us living under the same roof and doing our best to be considerate of each other.”

  “That’s a lovely compliment, Lena. Listen, bring your tea and come into my workout room and talk with me. It will make the time go faster, and when I’m done, you can give it a try.” Emily held her breath, waiting for Lena’s response. Was she moving too fast in her desire to make a friend?

  “Sure.”

  Emily was up to twenty minutes on the treadmill. Today she stayed on for forty-five minutes without realizing the time. To date, thirty minutes on the exercycle was all she could handle. She lasted an hour. “I should hire you,” she gasped when she dropped to the floor to swig from her water bottle. “Your turn, Lena.”

  “I’m tired just watching you. I’ll think about it. Actually, I’m comfortable with my fifteen extra pounds. As long as I’m in reasonable good health and eat right, I’m happy. I hope I’m not stepping over the line here, but you seem to be…obsessed with this program and your diet. I can’t help but see the way you…you know what I mean.”

  “I guess I’m an obsessive person. Do you want to know why?”

  “Not if it’s going to bother you to talk about it.”

  “I won’t know that unless I try. If it bothers me, I’ll stop and continue some other day.”

  A long time later, when Lena filched stove time from the tenants to boil water for fresh tea, she said, “Emily, I’m so sorry. It must have been terrible for you.”

  “I don’t want to waste the rest of my life. I need to do something. I need to do something to help myself, to prove to myself that I am a worthwhile person. That shrink I went to for a while said I had low self-esteem and he was right. I existed only for Ian. Do you think I’ll ever get over Ian, Lena?”

  “I don’t know, Emily. They say time heals all wounds. I still love my husband and I know I’ll never get married again. It’s something I know and feel. I think you’re different, though. Is there anything you want to do with your life? I mean something special?”

  “I’ve been taking classes for years now. I only need twelve more credits to get my degree. I thought for a long time that, if I had a degree, I’d be worthy of Ian. Is that sick or what? I can see these things now. Why couldn’t I see them then?”

  “You didn’t want to see them, Emily. It was easier to shift into neutral and coast. You trusted Ian and he didn’t come through for you. That doesn’t mean you can’t trust people, another man, in case you meet one. Those white shirts now, that’s something else. You literally created a monster, you know that, don’t you?” Lena giggled.

  “Oh, yes, I do know that. Nobody, according to Ian, could iron a white shirt like me. You know, when he left, when I got the letter, I really gave serious thought to taking in ironing. I panicked. I’m still in
a state of panic each time I have to pay a bill. I gave myself a year to get it all together.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I don’t know. I have to think about my future and how I’m going to get by. I want the second half of my life to count for something. I don’t want to look back and say to myself, I should have done this or I shouldn’t have done that. I can’t change the past. At night, when I can’t sleep, I do that and then I really can’t sleep. Everything reminds me of Ian. This room reminds me of him, but it’s the only available space for these machines.”

  “Then I say we get rid of everything in this room that reminds you of your husband. I know how to wallpaper. Let’s rip off this oh so manly plaid paper and put something up with some zip to it. I have a portable sewing machine I can let you use if you want to make some new curtains. I’d do valances. You’ll get more light. If this wainscoting is important to you, leave it. If it isn’t, paint it. Make it your room. I’m off this weekend and I can help you.” This last was said so shyly, Emily wrapped Lena in her arms. “I’d love some help if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  “Weekends are hard for me. My husband and I used to spend all our time together. I’d probably just read. Besides, the physical exercise will be good for both of us. Do you like this dark carpet?”

  “I hate it.”

  “We’ll work it in to our project. I can’t wait. I love transformations. Let’s go for a walk if you don’t have anything else to do. I never really walked around Sleepy Hollow. It’s beautiful out here with all the big, old trees. I bet you’re going to get a lot of exercise when the leaves start to fall. I’ll help,” she said magnanimously.

  “I accept. A walk would be nice.”

  A friendship began, a bond formed that would last both women the rest of their lives.

  Chapter 9

  There was a party going on at 47 Sleepy Hollow Road. Balloons and colorful streamers were everywhere. Music blared from Ian’s stereo system throughout the house while a magnificent repast was being prepared in the kitchen.

  “I love celebrations,” Lena chortled as she cut the greens for the salad. “Tell me again exactly what we’re celebrating.”

  “The list is endless,” Emily said, and laughed, a sound of pure mirth. “First, and most important, we’re celebrating your two years here with me, you and the others. I thought most of the women would be transients, but they’re happy here. I’m just overwhelmed that you all feel this is a nice place to live. We’re celebrating my fifty-pound weight loss even though I reached my goal six weeks ago. We’re celebrating my degree. We’re celebrating the fact that I obliterated Ian’s name from his framed medical diploma and we’re celebrating my Dear Emily letter that hangs in shreds in the workout room.”

  “Impressive indeed.” Lena smiled.

  “I don’t know if I could have made it without you, Lena. Do you believe the saying that when God closes one door, he opens another?”

  “One hundred percent. Moving here was the best thing I ever did. I have more money in the bank than my husband and I ever had at one time in our lives. I’m not saying money is the end-all, but it is security. We have such a wonderful friendship. I guess this was meant to be. When are you going into that bathroom, Emily?” she asked quietly.

  Emily’s hands started to shake. “Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I don’t know.”

  “You don’t ever have to do it. If you aren’t up to it, Emily, don’t do it. You’ve built this up so in your mind it’s become another obsession for you. Don’t torture yourself. You’ve come a long way to get to this point in time. If it’s something you can’t handle…”

  “I can do it, Lena. It’s the timing. I have to work that out in my head. Let’s change the subject. I, for one, cannot wait to sit down to this dinner and stuff myself. When the dishes are cleared away, I’m going to go for that five-mile walk, and when I get home, I’ll do an hour on the NordicTrack to work off more calories. If my eyes aren’t bigger than my stomach, I’m going to have two pieces of apple pie with two scoops of ice cream.”

  “You’ve earned it, Emily. Indulgences are fine if you keep them within bounds. You’ve done everything right, your weight loss was slow, your exercise program was just what your body could handle, and you did it on your own. You’re down to six cigarettes a day. Now, that’s something to be proud of. I say we have another party when you finally kick the habit. I’ll cook that dinner.”

  “Make that a promise and you have a deal,” Emily said happily.

  “It’s a deal, Emily. What time is dinner?”

  “Seven. Everyone will be home by then and cleaned up. Listen, Lena, I did something…now I’m not sure if…it was one of those spur-of-the-moment things people usually regret later, but I wanted this to be a bang-up affair. Balloons, streamers, dinner, and a rich dessert didn’t seem like quite enough so I…what I did was…Maybe I can cancel,” she dithered.

  “Cancel what? What did you do? Emily, look at me, what did you do?”

  Emily took a deep breath. “I hired a male dancer. He’s coming at nine o’clock. He dances on the dining room table. He takes off his clothes. Well, not all of them. I think he wears something skimpy. Oh, God, I thought it would be fun.”

  Lena doubled over laughing. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she removed the granny glasses she wore perched on her nose. “Emily, you have come a long, long way. I think it’s great. Does he gyrate and do we put five-dollar bills in his…whatever…”

  “I guess we could,” Emily said weakly. “I have to tip him. Yes, yes, let’s do that. I have some five-dollar bills. I went to the bank yesterday. I think we should hoot and holler like they do on television.”

  “Absolutely,” Lena gasped. “They gyrate right up against your face. I saw that on television.”

  “Don’t tell me that!”

  “You hired him so you’re the one he’ll do that to. Oh, I can’t wait to see this. Nice going, Emily! I thought you said we were going for a walk after the kitchen was cleaned up.”

  “I lied.”

  “Does he have a name?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What is it?” Lena giggled.

  “The Liberated Stud.”

  “I like that,” Lena said with a straight face.

  “You do!”

  “I guess that means he’s uninhibited, loose as a goose, that kind of thing.”

  “I have a picture. He sent one in the mail when I called him. He said it was a professional shot. He has…he said he has a portfolio.”

  “Well, let’s see it!”

  Emily reached into the cabinet where she kept the trash bags and withdrew a manila envelope. She licked at her lips as Lena cackled gleefully, smacking her hands in anticipation.

  “What do you think?”

  “Oh, myyyy Goddddd,” Lena said, holding the glossy photograph this way and that way. “On his best day, my husband never looked like this. How about you, Emily?”

  “Ian couldn’t measure up anywhere near this guy. Even when he was twenty. Does this make us two dirty old women?”

  “Yeahhh, but who cares? If you have an old frame lying around, I think you should stick this in it and put it on the dining room table so we can all look at it when we’re eating.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m serious. I wouldn’t know what to do with someone like that, would you, Emily?”

  “I’d make it up as I went along. Listen, we’re in our forties. That doesn’t mean we’re dead. I bet we could teach him a few things. These young hunks think women are going to be so mesmerized with their perfect bodies they aren’t going to want anything but…you know. Guys like him probably don’t know how to please a woman. Did your husband please you, Lena?”

  “He tried. He wasn’t…ah…adventuresome. How about Ian?”

  “Sometimes it was good. Most times it was for him. A lot of times he was too tired and I got to the point where I refused to ask because I didn’t want to be told
he was tired. Hey, I was born tired, but I did…do like sex. You?”

  “How can you like something you never really had? My husband thought foreplay was something only hookers and johns practiced. He was very straightlaced, but I loved him.”

  Emily stared at her friend. “But? There’s always a but.”

  “No buts. Now, where’s that frame?”

  “Upstairs on the hall table. Lordy, it’s almost time for everyone to come home.”

  Dinner was a festive affair with many toasts to the photograph of the oiled body flexing his muscles in the center of the table. When the dishes were done and the dining room chairs were placed in a semicircle far enough back into the room to afford a good view of the dancer, Emily poured fresh wine into long-stemmed flutes. “We’re ready!” Lena bobbed her head. “He brings his own music.”

  “How long is he going to dance?” a library assistant from the Plainfield Library asked.

  “An hour,” Emily said happily. “When you want more, just ask.”

  “Does he wear a cape?” a nurse’s aide said.

  “He starts out with a cape.”

  “I hope he wears feathers around his ankles. I think that’s sexy,” Kelly said. “Do you know, Emily?”

  “If you want feathers, I can go upstairs and take some out of a pillow. Lena knows how to sew so she can string them together.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll pretend he’s wearing feathers.”

  “I hope he throws his pelvis out a lot. Lots of bump-and-grind stuff. Do you realize, ladies, that women have finally come to a place in time where we can do something like this? Before it was men with hookers at stag parties. I say we exploit this guy, heckle the hell out of him. Just the way they do to women.”

  Martha Nesbit laughed uproariously. “I want to borrow that picture so I can put it on my desk tomorrow morning. I want all the salesmen to see it when they come in. I’m gonna say he was my date for this evening.”

  Emily poured more wine.

  The Liberated Stud arrived promptly at nine. The women gave a collective gasp of approval before he banished them to the kitchen so he could “get ready.”

 

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